


Violet Gives Willingly

by AvaRosier



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Multi, fluidity of sexual attraction, gender role differences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You looked at my naked body last night, didn’t you?”</p><p>Lydia’s brown eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side in a way that was downright eerie for Scott to watch. “And may I remind you, Scott, that I am now a werewolf and will be able to detect the tiniest blip of a lie in my heart, which is now beating like a jackrabbit.”</p><p>Scott could feel his pale skin flushing and just knew the red was showing on his cheeks. “I- yes. Yes! But I was in the shower, I couldn’t not see everything!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a bodyswap fic just for humor and sexytimes, I try to delve into the experience of someone who is used to male privilege who suddenly has to experience body policing and the type of entitlement men feel towards a female body. There is a scene in the first half that does slightly cross the line in terms of unestablished boundaries (Lydia performed a sex act with Scott's body without his consent), but subsequent acts are negotiated and agreed upon. There will be a potentially triggering scene in part two where Scott fears for his safety in Lydia's body when catcalling crosses a line. Peter Hale will make a number of intimate comments that reference the way he psychologically violated Lydia. Nothing drastic happens, but Scott really will get a taste of what it means to be a woman.

“ _You looked at my naked body last night, didn’t you_?”

Lydia’s brown eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side in a way that was downright eerie for Scott to watch. “And may I remind you, Scott, that I am now a werewolf and will be able to detect the _tiniest_ blip of a lie in my heart, which is now beating like a jackrabbit.”

Scott could feel his pale skin flushing and just knew the red was showing on his cheeks. “I- _yes_. Yes! But I was in the shower, I couldn’t _not_ see everything!” That was the truth anyhow. He’d put off the shower for two days already and Lydia had growled at him yesterday that she could _not_ have her body becoming so _rank_ , especially not while school was still in session.  She’d punctuated that declaration by shoving a piece of paper at him with surprisingly neat handwriting outlining her very detailed shower regimen, which she had informed him that he’d better follow _to the letter_ \- if he so much as used too much shampoo, she would be able to tell by looking at his now-ginger hair.

Lydia rolled her eyes at him and stalked over to the walk-in closet, disappearing inside for a minute to pick out something “so effortless for him to wear there was no way he could fuck it up.”

“Stop being so defensive, Scott,” she called out from inside the closet. “And besides, I’ve already had to give you a hand-job.”

Scott almost thinks he misheard her, since he no longer had the heightened senses that came along with his body.

“ _What!_ ” Even to his ears, that sounded too shrill. Lydia reappeared, carrying an armload of dresses.  Wait, _dresses_? Distracted for a moment, Scott forgot about her earlier revelation.

“Uh, Lydia, I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice but I don’t exactly wear dresses often. Maybe this would be a good week for me to just keep wearing jeans. Or that nice pair of shorts you made me wear yesterday- I didn’t mind those…even if it was weird to have that much leg bare…”

“No.” Okay, it really was strange to see his own mouth enunciating that word the way Lydia usually did- right down to the exaggerated shape of the ‘o’ and the way she drew out the nasal sound.

“Lydia Martin wears skirts eighty percent o the time. You are now Lydia Martin, if only in the most technical sense, therefore you will wear skirts.” She held out a cute purple sundress and a cropped khaki jacket with ruched sleeves.  Thank god she wasn’t going to force him to wear shoes with a heel, _that_ would be a disaster waiting to happen.

No way would he confess to her or anyone that he had actually tried on some of her shoes- the three-inch heels- and attempted to walk around her bedroom in them.  That was a secret he would take to his grave.

“And what do you mean you gave me a hand-job last night? I think it’s time we set some boundaries about what is acceptable and not acceptable to do to each other’s bodies.”

His own eyes widened innocently as Lydia opened her dresser drawer and pulled out a pale lavender, lacy bra-and-panty set. “Well, what else was I supposed to do? I was watching _The Vampire Diaries_ and there are some very attractive cast members on that show. I couldn’t even _walk_ until I took care of it.”  Only Lydia Martin could manage to make him feel guilty for having a male body that had typical physiological reactions.

Sighing in resignation, he reached out for the dress only to have her toss the outfit on the bed, out of his reach. “Nope, no putting on any clothes until we take care of those legs.” Her eyes zeroed in on his lower calves.

“Lydia, _Lydia no_.”

“ _Lydia yes_. You’ll love the way silky-smooth bare legs feel, Scott!” And with that, she was literally manhandling him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom down the hall. When she stood there with her arms crossed over her broad chest, peering down at him expectantly, Scott felt all of the sudden shy.

“Can’t I just do it myself? I shave my face nearly every day, I think I can manage this bit on my own.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Lydia informed him while she peered into the mirror to check the hold on the pomade she’d put into his short hair that morning to give it a more spiky look. He wasn’t sure what it was she had done, but his hair had never looked so good. “After this, you need to get dressed, I need to put your makeup on, and do your hair. It takes serious work to look as good as I do on a daily basis, Scott. And besides, it really isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

She giggled.

_Note to self: Scott McCall does not look cute when he giggles._

Well, she did have a point. And it wasn’t too weird, being naked in front of his own body. Scott shrugged and pushed Lydia’s pajama bottoms off his rounded hips.  Lydia made him sit with his short legs over the sink while she wet them with a cloth and lathered them up with some shaving gel.

Did he say it wouldn’t be too weird being naked in front of himself?  Scott took it back.  It was actually weird because even if it was his own hands touching Lydia’s legs, he was still feeling it, and it felt nice. With every scrape of the razor up his leg, and Lydia wholly focused on methodically ridding her legs of any hint of stubble, Scott couldn’t help getting turned on by the intimacy of it all. Lydia froze as she was in the process of starting in on the second leg and turned to look at him, sniffing the air around him with a weird expression on her face.

“Why do I smell different? It’s…heavier somehow.”  Scott didn’t bother responding to her question. Lydia was nothing if not extremely bright. She’d figure it out soon enough.  _Bingo_. Her dark brown eyes widened, which was comical for all the obvious reasons.

“Scott McCall, are you turned on by this?”

He remained sullenly silent.  Lydia just smiled and went back to work. “It’s alright, you know. I think you and I should accept that for the duration of this curse, we’re going to be feeling horny from time to time. Consider this me giving you permission to use the wandless Hitachi magic wand- it’s the one in the bottom drawer of my dresser.”

“I- Are you sure?” Scott thought about ignoring her blanket permission to masturbate with her own body.

“Yes. Believe it or not, I actually trust you not to do anything awful to my body. And it’s hardly rocket science, but you might learn a thing or two for future use.”

“Okay. And you have my permission as well,” he extended magnamiously.

“There, that’s settled,” she smiled brightly. “You’ll also be glad to know I cancelled the wax appointment I was going to have tomorrow evening.”

Scott whistled at that as he hopped down from the counter. Lydia busied herself with pulling out several tubes of make-up. “A lighter look today, I think. Some mascara, minimal blush, and gloss.” She muttered to herself.

“Yeah, I think I prefer having you shave my legs than going in to have them waxed.”

Lydia straightened up to her full height, which meant she towered over him. The grin she sent him was downright sly. It was such a Lydia-esque expression, and Scott kind of liked seeing it on his face. If he could manage to imitate it when he was back in possession of his body, that would be very useful…

“Oh, it wasn’t to wax my legs, Scott,” she said in a sing-song voice, staring down at his black panty-clad crotch.

Scott wasn’t proud to say he whimpered when she winked.

* * *

 

 

Ever since Scott and Lydia had run afoul of the witch on Friday night and regained consciousness in the other’s body, the rest of his and Derek’s co-pack ( _shut up, it totally works that way_ ) hadn’t known how to act around them.

Scott had gone to Deaton on Sunday morning, and then to Derek’s loft, to see if any of them had tracked down the witch or figured out a way to switch him and Lydia back to their own bodies. So far, zilch. So the two of them had no choice but to keep up the charade at school.

There were only three more days to go before the end of Junior year, which was great for both Scott and Lydia because neither had to worry much about keeping up with each other’s intellectual styles. Scott was very smart, he usually pulled As and some Bs and took a couple of Honors or AP classes. Lydia, however, was out-of-the-stratosphere smart; even if she used to keep it under wraps. She’d stopped holding herself back at the start of the school year, which Scott was happy to see, because it was like everyone could see who Lydia Martin was. Knowing that she had at least a few friends who loved her for everything she was- her intellect, her desire for control, her weird way of caring for her friends, her frankness, and even her viciousness- went a long way towards her being able to relax the walls between her and other people.

As it turned out, it wasn’t the whole ‘act like Lydia Martin’ thing that gave Scott trouble in school that day.

When he was at Lydia’s locker before the start of first period (he hadn’t even needed to check her phone for the combination today, _yay him_ ), one of the assholes from the soccer team had been blatantly checking him out, eyes roving over Lydia’s body in a way that made his skin crawl. No matter how badly he wanted to physically shove the guy into the lockers, he had to remember that he was in Lydia’s body and she wanted no undue attention. So he settled for glaring at the other boy until he sneered and slammed his locker shut.

“Damn, Martin. Least you could do is be grateful. A crazy girl like you should be flattered,” he muttered as he walked away.

Breathing hard, Scott willed himself not to follow and instead focused on shoving the notebooks and textbook he would need for the morning classes into Lydia’s beloved Fendi bag.

By third period, when he was in Lydia’s AP US Government class, he’d mostly managed to shake it off and while Mr. Summers droned on and on about the current state of the state government (which generally sucked, he didn’t need the teacher to tell him that), Scott began to get lost in a fantasy.

He was very much aware of how nice the air felt on his smooth legs, bared to mid-thigh with this dress. And he’d gotten used to hooking his ankle over the other or crossing his legs in the same way Lydia did.  She’d put this gold necklace with a delicate chain on his neck to ‘accessorize’ his outfit or whatever, and Scott had just discovered that when he toyed with the pendant on the bottom, it made the chain slide across the soft skin on his collarbone in a way that was electrifying.

 Fantasizing in the middle of class was thrilling and downright liberating because hey, he doesn’t have to worry about boners.  Being aware of what a clitoris felt like and the way girls felt when aroused was something of a revelation, and since Lydia had given him her permission, he figured it was okay to think about the things he usually thought about. Also amazing: he could get aroused, do nothing about it, and hold on to the feeling and come back to it later. This alone was probably a good reason for girls to rule the world. Men had no idea.

But his fantasies are different because he’s very much aware of how his female body is feeling right now, and he finds himself wondering what it’d feel like to have his smaller form pressed into a mattress by the heavier weight of another guy. While Scott is imagining Danny Mahealani’s hands (it’s his fantasy, he’ll choose whomever he wants, okay?) on his breasts, tugging the nipples, he’s swinging his leg back and forth which is causing his inner thighs to squeeze rhythmically. He’s so turned on right now and nobody knows it—

Just then, he noticed Issac turn around several chairs diagonal to him. The curly-haired werewolf gives him a pained look. _Oh, right_. Scott winced and mouths a silent ‘sorry’ to the other werewolf.  He repeats the apology in the hallways after the bell rings, definitely noticing the way Isaac was holding his notebooks in front of his lap.

“Isaac— I’m really, really sorry about that. It’s just kind of liberating not having to worry about erections and you would not believe how good it feels—“

His rationalizing is interrupted by a restrained growl.

“Stop! _Please stop talking_ ,” Isaac begged, his eyes closing as he rested his forehead against his locker.

“What?”

Isaac looked around furtively to make sure nobody was listening in. “It’s- it’s kind of you, Scott. You’re still you but you’re also Lydia and she smells so nice and I had Lydia-you in on the field earlier and I am _so confused right now_!”

Oh. _Oh_.

 “I’m going to go to class now because I can’t deal with this, okay?” Isaac didn’t wait around for an answer before he was loping off towards the stairway. Scott didn’t blame him. When he had those heightened senses, he couldn’t go a day in school without practically being sprayed by the scent of arousal from at least a dozen students. Sometimes the teachers, which was really awkward.  He had mostly learned to filter it out and ignore it because there are some things you don’t want to know about Greenberg when they were in Finstock’s Honors Econ II class.

Oh. He probably should’ve warned Lydia about that.

Speaking of, he hadn’t seen Lydia since she had left this morning. As him, she didn’t have to show up to his first-period French III class because Finstock had pulled all the lacrosse players out for a special drill session because even though the season was over, they were playing an invitational against Redwood Prep and Finstock was personally invested in making the other coach eat Beacon Hills High dirt.

He had been counting on Stiles and Isaac and Boyd to keep an eye on Lydia-him to make sure she didn’t lose control of her strength.  Isaac’s comment about having to deal with her on the field wasn’t doing anything to alleviate his worry.

“Lydia, darling!” Stiles sang out from halfway down the hallway. “May I say how absolutely ravishing you look this morning?”

Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend’s saccharine tone. He knew it well, and that shit-eating grin on his face. Scott craned his neck up to glare at Stiles, feeling disoriented that he had to do so when he was used to looking the other boy in the eye.

“You know, we wouldn’t even have to tell her, just one kiss—“

“ _No, Stiles_.”

Stiles pretended to look disappointed for a moment, before brightening again. “Speaking of how ravishing you usually look, you might want to have a _teensy_ word with the actual Lydia about only using your body for good.” He mimed how small a word with only a few millimetres between his thumb and forefinger.

His heart started pounding in his chest. Lydia’s chest. Whatever.

“Oh god, no. What did she do?”

Stiles rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before looking back at Scott. “Well,” he trailed off when he caught sight of something beyond Scott’s shoulder. “Actually, you can see for yourself.”

Scott turned around just in time to witness a ripple going through the students standing in the hallway. Most of them had stopped whatever they were doing, whatever conversations they had been having, to stare at _Scott McCall_ making his way down the corridor.

When Lydia had come over this morning to help Scott get ready for school, she’d been wearing track pants and a plain t-shirt to exercise in.  What she was wearing now, was a pair of form-fitting jeans that Scott was absolutely certain he did _not_ own; ditto the black t-shirt that was practically clinging to his muscles.

But that probably wasn’t the real reason why everyone was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You see, Scott, even after he became a werewolf, was mostly inconspicuous as he walked around places. People knew him, but they didn’t stare at him. He was just _normal_. Lydia Martin, on the other hand, treated high school like the runway in Milan. The first day back at school after winter break their sophomore year, when Stiles had turned around to admire Lydia’s saunter up to the front doors, Scott had looked after her as well. She was confident, and Scott had always been attracted to that quality in women.

Over the weekend, they’d worked together with the help of his mom to perfect their strides so they passed for each other. Scott found he had to keep thinking ‘I am Lydia Martin, I am a girl’ in order to keep it up. It got easier every day. Lydia had managed to break herself of the short, hip-swinging strides she was known for, which looked altogether odd on Scott’s form. She’d managed to find an unobtrusive slow stroll that didn’t give anything away.

But Lydia right now?

There was a hint of swagger, and she was grinning and making eye contact with everyone as she passed them. The look in _Scott McCall’s_ eyes promised dark things done to you in dark corners that you would _like_.

“Scott,” Stiles whispered in a strangled voice from next to him. “I just want you to know how incredibly attracted I am to you right now and if you, _if Lydia_ , offered, I am totally letting her do whatever she wants to me.”

 _Scott McCall_ was now making a beeline towards where Allison was frozen at her locker, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. She knew it was Lydia behind those brown eyes, but she was evidently not immune to the combined charm of Scott’s face and Lydia’s manipulative charisma. When Lydia smiled at Allison and brushed a dark strand of the girl’s hair over her shoulder, Scott could see Allison’s eyes darken and her gaze fall to Lydia’s ( _his_ ) mouth.

Scott recognized the look on his face. He’d seen it on Lydia’s that day in Coach Finstock’s office when she had slid closer to him and batted her eyelashes and then he was slanting his lips over hers like he could lick her challenge from them.

Taking a deep breath, Scott tried to stay calm. As soon as this little display was over, he was going to pull Lydia into an abandoned classroom and _kill her_.

Or kiss her.

He’d figure it out later.


	2. Chapter 2

A year and half ago, Scott would have given nearly anything to not be a werewolf anymore.

Accepting his wolf had been a process forged in pain and danger, and at some point he’d had to shift his entire worldview until he could handle the fact that he was stronger and faster than humans. It was a greater struggle to hold on to the most fundamental aspects of his personality- the desire to help people and keep them safe however he could. His mom had raised him to be a good person, and he’d fought to cling to that even in the midst of fighting the Alpha pack.

"He who makes a beast of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man," Lydia had quoted to him one night, many months ago, when they had been recovering from a brutal confrontation with Deucalion and Kali. 

The point was, Scott was beginning to miss being a werewolf. Tonight was a full moon and it was downright peculiar to feel absolutely nothing. There was no change taking over his body, just… boredom.

He had wanted to be in the old train station with the others to keep an eye on Lydia. But Derek had been resolute over the phone, telling him to stay away because the threat to his _\- to Lydia’s_ \- body would be too great. That did mollify Scott a bit— the others had great control and he just had to trust that they could keep Lydia corralled.

It had been a week now since the witch had cursed them, and Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about being a woman. It wasn’t that he saw it as a step down or anything, it was just that walking through the world female was a different experience than he would have thought. There were a myriad of petty indignities and the constancy of certain  _expectations_  that he had never had to consider before. Since he hadn’t really had to deal with that kind of stuff before, it all had a way of chipping at him day after day.

Stiles was home tonight, doing a bit of father-son bonding, otherwise he would be eagerly spending time with his best friend while said best friend had the body of his long-time crush. So, Scott found himself sat there in Lydia’s bedroom, flipping through one of her copies of Vogue (because her stack of Glasgow Mathematical Journals were a tad bit intimidating).  This gave Scott time to reflect on how much the lack of power in Lydia’s human body bothered him. He was used to not only being a man, but being a werewolf. He constantly had to consider the relative fragility of his current body before he said or did anything. And it wasn’t always the lack of supernatural strength.

It had been 3:30 that afternoon, and Junior year was officially over. Stiles had given him and Lydia a ride to school that morning, and Scott had been too tired to tell the other boy off for staring at his bare legs.

Scott hadn't had the energy to fight with Lydia that morning, and consequently, he was wearing one of Lydia’s sundresses, but skipping a bra because it was hot and too uncomfortable. He had just turned onto Denbright, barely halfway to Lydia's home, when the ringleader of a group of guys barely older than Scott himself began to catcall him.

_"Well hello there, you're too sexy to be so lonely. You got a boyfriend? Ditch him, cuz I'll make you feel like a woman, princess."_

Scott had recognized the guy, Trey Lucas. He'd been a senior when Scott and Lydia had begun their freshman year, but dropped out barely halfway through the semester. Stiles would occasionally update Scott on Trey’s latest brush with the law.

Scott had tried to ignore it, to give the five guys a wide berth when he shook his head no and kept walking. He had been hyper aware at that point, of how isolated and vulnerable he was right then. If they decided to get physical, he wouldn't be able to-

_"What? You a stuck-up bitch? I'm just tryna be nice, you're just like all those wack-ass bitches, think they too good for me when their tiny-prick boyfriends be cheating on them-"_

_“I said I’m not interested!”_ He had ground out, walking faster towards the end of the street. He had wanted so badly to turn around and face them, to make them regret speaking that way to him.

But instead of feeling the power of the werewolf coursing through his veins, Scott had felt nothing but his heart pounding and stomach clenching in anticipation of fight or flight. He realized, perhaps for the very first time since the switch, that he was in Lydia’s body. Her human, utterly breakable body . He couldn’t take this kind of risk with her body. He couldn’t let her be hurt like this.

And then a car horn had honked from behind them and when Scott turned around, he had never been so grateful to see Chris Argent stepping out of his SUV. He was as stone-faced as usual, and when he smiled at the guys surrounding Scott with false cheerfulness, he downright radiated danger. 

_“Lydia. Sorry I’m late, traffic was murder.”_

Anyone with self-preservation instincts was terrified of Chris Argent, which Scott’s catcaller and his friends most definitely had been.  They had thrown up their hands as if to say ‘no biggie,’ and were quickly on their way.

Scott had managed to bite out a reluctant _"thank you, Mr. Argent,"_ as he climbed into his ex-girlfriend's father's car. The only reason he had gotten inside the same car with Chris Argent was the belief that Chris wouldn’t try to kill him when he was in his daughter’s best friend’s human body.

The ride home was the most awkward fifteen minutes of his life.  To be frank, Scott would prefer to never think of it. Ever again.

 

A thud sounded from outside Lydia's window and Scott was startled out of the memory. Tossing the magazine to the side, he rushed to the window and opened it so he could poke his head outside. 

Well, it seemed that Derek Hale and his pack forgot to account for one thing:

Scott’s body might have been the one infected with lycanthropy, but it was still Lydia Martin’s brain in there.  They probably hadn't stood a chance. Peter might have been able to cut off any move she made, but given their history, Derek had ordered the older beta to stay away for this moon.

Scott barely had enough time to jump away from the window before his own body was leaping through the open window.  He grunted when Lydia, in his beta form, tackled him to the carpeted floor.  He didn't dare move when Lydia buried her nose into his throat and breathed deeply, not with her fangs so close.  

"Lydia. Lydia look at me. It's Scott, we're in each other's bodies." She growled and raised herself back on her haunches. At least she had clothes on. Too many times he had gone through the shift and ended up at least half naked.  Grasping at straws to get through to her while in the grips her lunacy, Scott finally blurted out:

"The Fields Medal! Remember that? You're going to get your body back, you're going to get out of this town and go to some Ivy League school and do something amazing with math.  Just hold on to that and use that as your anchor. Lydia?"

She had buried her face in his pajama-clad stomach and, long moments later, when she finally sat back, he saw his human form staring down at him, breathing heavily.  "Thanks," Lydia whispered. "I just didn't like being in that place anymore."  

Sluggishly, she got to her feet and kicked off Scott's shoes before crawling under her covers. 

With a pang, Scott realized that Lydia had probably just wanted her creature comforts around her. To sit in her castle, safe and secure, where she could raise up the drawbridge and leave the moat outside to ward off voyeurs.  

Once comfortable under the violet blue covers (and don’t think Scott hadn’t noticed that the general color scheme of her bedroom resembled aconite), Lydia turned to Scott and trained her tired-looking brown eyes at him.  She patted the other half of the bed next to her.

“Tell him I’m under control and come lie down with me. I promise I won’t bite,” she murmured, arching her eyebrow playfully in his direction.  It took a moment for Scott to realize what she meant, but he padded over to the open window and stuck his head out.

“She’s alright, I’ve got it under control-“ He called out to Derek, wherever the Alpha was hiding and listening in.

“You mean _I’ve_ got myself under control, Scott,” she snipped from her hiding spot under the covers.

Scott sighed and closed the window. He didn’t delude himself that Derek would leave now.

When he crawled into the bed next to Lydia, he realized that this was the most intimate they had ever been, even if he was staring at his own body next to him on the bed.  Lydia’s eyes were closed and Scott was fairly certain she was just trying to focus on not shifting and taking off for a meal.  Good thing Prada was penned in the laundry room for the night.

“They were just going to chain me up and there was this ridiculous medieval torture device they were going to put on my head,” she admitted finally.  Scott sighed deeply and groaned.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been there, I would’ve convinced them to let you control yourself.”

Lydia rolled over onto her side until she was facing him. “I couldn’t think, not with the chains on me. I just wanted to be anywhere but there. And when Derek acted like I wouldn’t be able to handle it, I began to think I couldn’t and then I really couldn’t control myself anymore.” She admitted, voice thick with emotion as she tried not to cry.

“You’re doing it right now, though. You’re holding onto your control.  And you’re doing great.”  Scott tried to reassure her, rubbing his small palms against the broad planes of her back.  Lydia burrowed into the embrace, sticking her nose into the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“I’m not doing so great at being a woman. I don’t know how you do it everyday, Lydie,” he sighed. Deciding to ignore the way he had just blurted out a nickname, Scott continued. “It’s like you have to walk a fine line between being just nice enough but not too nice, or…”

“Or you were asking for it,” she finished. Flopping onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling. “That’s why I’m ‘such a bitch’ most of the time. I might as well be if society is going to blame me for every choice I make anyways. But it’s not like I don’t play the game, too. It’s a matter of judging the risk and the consequences in a particular situation. Sometimes you say ‘yes’ because you don’t think you can get away with saying ‘no’.”

Scott sighed. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m glad this happened. The bodyswap, I mean.”

“Ditto. It’s not always rainbows and unicorns being you, though. And I don’t just mean the obvious. I nearly got into a fight with Connor Spelman on Thursday because he called you a racial epithet. Boyd had to hold me back, but I made the asshole have to own up to it in front of Mrs. Bigelow.”

Scott peered over at Lydia and saw a smug smile on her face.  Looks like he was going to have to resign himself to everyone treating him differently when he was back in his body, after what Lydia was doing with it. As if she read his mind, Lydia murmured sleepily.

“And you need to behave more like me when I’m you. I’ve gotten you so many girls’ phone numbers- and some guys’, you could have any one of them you wanted.”

Scott thought about that for a minute before he answered her, perfectly aware that Derek Hale was probably able to hear every word they were saying to each other.  “Maybe I don’t want any of them. Maybe I already know the people I want. Maybe I want you.”  He let the declaration fall into the pregnant silence of the dim room.

When he got no response, Scott turned his head and he couldn’t even be disappointed that Lydia was already fast asleep. When relaxed, his face looked carefree and happy.  Scott curled up against his body, happy for this strange but familiar comfort. “Goodnight, Lydia.”  He whispered.  After a moment’s thought:

“Goodnight, Derek.”

 

Maybe he could handle this bodyswap thing.

* * *

 

He spoke too soon.

It was Saturday and he didn’t have to work.  Scott usually showed up for his shifts and worked in the back since Deaton needed his knowledge and expertise more than his face. Lydia doesn’t have a job, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry about covering her shifts.

But anyways, it was Saturday morning and Lydia was off with Boyd, Isaac, and Stiles at Lacrosse practice, which left Scott to realize with horror that he had gotten Lydia’s period.  To make everything worse, it happened when he was at Derek’s loft, helping them to pore through several ancient books about the migratory pattern of witches like the one who had cursed him and Lydia. He’d been feeling a weird ache in his lower abdomen and back for awhile, but he had discounted it as the result of sitting in that position for too long. Scott had finally taken a break and stood up to head to the bathroom.

There’s so much blood, it’s bright red, and it’s all over Lydia’s powder blue panties and when he sees the stains on her expensive jeans, Scott is absolutely convinced that she is going to murder him. But, first…

“DEREK!” He shouted, not even that loudly, since he knew the other Alpha would hear him.

“ _Scott_?” he heard through the metal door that served to close the bathroom off from the rest of the loft. “ _What’s wrong_?” He sounded a bit panicked.

“I’m  _bleeding_ ,” Scott said in a pained voice.

 _“What do you mean you’re-_   _oh_.”

“Yeah,  _oh_.” He parroted Derek’s higher-pitched tone.

Just then he heard another voice chime in outside the door. “ _Hey, Scotty, what’s up_?”

 _Oh thank god, Stiles will fix everything._ “Wait, why are you done with practice early? Where’s Lydia?”

“ _Uhhh, Finstock kicked me out because I was dragging the team down. Your body is still giving Isaac palpitations at school_.”

Before Scott could stuff his panties with toilet paper and open the door, Derek cut in.

“ _Scott’s got Lydia’s period_.”

“ _Oh, my god. You have got to be kidding me_!” Scott caught sight of the grimace on his best friend’s face when he yanked the bathroom door open.

“Stiles, I have fresh waves of agony in my uterus, which I can feel right now! And I’ve got a flood of blood coming out of my body!”

Stiles clapped his hands over his ears and wailed that Scott needed to stop taking the mystery out of his former crush on Lydia. “I do not need to know the details of Lydia’s flow! I hate you, Scott!”

Ignoring the discomfited expressions on Derek and Stiles' faces, Scott just leaned against the wall outside the bathroom and wrapped his arms around his abdomen, curving his body into itself in an effort to lessen the pain. He couldn't believe women experienced this much pain every month, and he was a werewolf!

“Now, do you understand why she-wolves are so vicious? The female is always the deadliest of the species.” Peter drawled as he strolled into view, and don’t think Scott missed the way the former Alpha’s eyes roved over his body.

Derek just glared at his uncle and moved past Scott into the bathroom. He could hear Derek rifling through the cabinets for a minute before he emerged with a box of Tampax and mutely held them out to Scott.  He just stared at the box in horror.

“No. No way.”

Derek looked as uncomfortable as Scott felt right now. He shrugged. “There’s a little booklet of instructions. Girls do it all the time, it can’t be that hard.”

“It’s not about hard, Derek! This would require touching her  _vagina_.  It’s not my body, I’m not going to do that! I mean, she did give me permission, but I just can’t!”

Stiles stopped making his dying seal noises on the couch and leaped back to his feet. “No, you can’t! No touching Lydia’s body without her express consent.  Wait- what do you mean, she gave you permission?”

“Lydia said...well...everybody has normal urges and...well, you know." Scott flipped his ginger braid over his shoulder and gave his best friend a meaningful look. Stiles just stared at him and Scott had a feeling Stiles was thinking of that night when he could've chosen to go with Lydia after the witch, but instead had decided to make a display of how over his crush on her he was. His mouth opened and closed for a moment and even Derek and Peter looked surprised that something could strike the younger boy speechless. 

“Fffff- You know what, I’ll go to the CVS a couple blocks away and get some nice  _non-violating_  pads for you.” And with that, Stiles was out the door.  Derek stood there looking constipated for a moment before he muttered, “I’ll go see about a hot water bottle or something. Laura would-“ Evidently having had enough of the entire awkward situation, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

That left Scott with Peter, who was looking altogether too pleased with himself.  Scott glared at him warily as he hunched over further to try to alleviate the next round of cramping. He was entirely too aware that he had a uterus right now, and it felt like it was trying to claw its way out of Lydia’s body.

Peter sighed melodramatically. "Come along, I know a good trick for helping with the pain."

He led Scott over to the decades-old blue couch near Derek's bed and manoeuvred him into a specific cross-legged position.  A quick trip in and out of the bathroom yielded some Midol capsules that Peter handed him along with a bottle of water. “Take two now, it’ll take about an hour before you feel the effects.”

Something about the whole conversation was creeping Scott out and he couldn’t figure out why until Peter continued talking with an unbearably smug grin on his face.

“Don’t worry, Scott, by tonight you’ll be feeling horny enough to roll over and grind yourself over your fists all the way to paradise. Lydia’s always sensitive at the start of her period.”

A sort of clammy numbness washed over Scott when he realized that  _of course_  Peter would know how Lydia alleviated her cramps, how she  _masturbated_. Scott barely registered Derek storming back into the living room and flashing his red eyes at Peter and telling the older man to get the fuck out of there,  _now_. There was an awkward silence for a minute after the door slammed shut behind Peter, before Derek was gingerly sitting down on the couch cushion next to Scott, peering at him with guilt and concern.

“I’m sorry. He really shouldn’t be saying those things,” Derek sighed helplessly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Scott shook himself out of his trance and stared up at Derek until he met his eyes. “No, that’s the thing, Derek… he’s not saying those things about  _me_. It’s not me you should be sorry for. It’s Lydia.”

When Peter had said those things about Lydia, his friend, and about her body that Scott now inhabited, he had felt like a butterfly pinned down in a display case. He wondered if that was how Lydia felt every day, every time she had to be around Peter. Scott had known Lydia for years, even more closely in the past year and half. He knew how much she prized control and put on performances so everyone else would see only what she wanted them to see. To have that bared, by someone like Peter Hale…

"You're right." The admission was all Derek could say, finally.  Maybe it was the cumulative stress of not being in his own body, maybe it was the hormones coursing through his body at the moment, but Scott found himself unable to blink back the hot, fat tears that rolled down his cheeks.  

In a flash, Derek was on his knees before Scott, and he was cupping Scott's face in his broad palms. The first swipe of his thumb over Scott's cheekbone felt, well, really nice.  And he couldn't help closing his eyes, because on some level he knew what was coming next. 

And he wasn't disappointed. The kiss was soft, chaste, and salty from the taste of his tears.  Scott let his hands curl around Derek's biceps, and at the answering twinge between his thighs- in spite of the cramps- he really wanted to lie back down on the couch and let Derek's solid weight press him into the cushions.  Scott released a shaky moan into Derek's mouth, returning the kiss.  

And then the pressure on his lips was gone, and Scott's eyes opened so he could stare into Derek's half-lidded eyes, looking probably as confused as Scott himself felt.

“Who did you mean that kiss for? Me or Lydia?” He asked, Lydia's voice sounding husky and raw.

“It's complicated,“ Derek sighed, letting his fingers slide along the column of Scott's throat.  "Both of you."  

Frankly, any answer Derek had given would have pissed Scott off just as much. He rolled his eyes and glared at the other man.  

"You've always given me the whole 'we're brothers now' spiel, and it's not until I suddenly have vagina that you decide to let me know you're kinda attracted to  _me_? And I never see you look at Lydia like that when she's  _Lydia_. Whatever you feel for her, you hide it behind annoyance when she starts running the pack the way she thinks it should be run or at best you'll actually show that you're concerned about her when she's in danger.  But really, Derek? You're going to let us know how you feel about us when we're not even in our own bodies? When we're off-kilter and vulnerable?"

Now it was Derek’s turn to be speechless.  _Good_.

Scott got to his feet, nearly crying at the fresh wave of agony, and picked up Lydia’s Fendi bag. “You know what? I  _do_  have a vagina right now, Derek. And it’s bleeding copiously. I can’t deal with this. I’ll talk to you later, man.”

His dramatic exit was ruined by Stiles, who chose that moment to come stumbling back through the door with five packages of pads, in several different varieties. "I wasn't sure if you wanted the kind with wings, or odor protection, or-"

Scott interrupted his spiel and grabbed the first package he could get his hands on and disappeared into the bathroom. Putting a pad on wasn't rocket science, but it sure felt weird having a fucking  _boat_  in between his legs.  At any rate, it would last him until he got home and begged Lydia for access to powerful painkillers or a butcher's knife, whichever was more convenient.

He made sure to put a lot of effort into slamming Derek’s front door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, there be smut!:  
> “Would you like to know, Scott,” Her baritone voice rumbled, breath hot against the sensitive whorls of his ear. “What it’s like for a girl?” Lydia brushed her finger over his collarbone and swept his long, reddish curls away from his neck.
> 
> “What do you mean?” Scott could guess what she meant, but he was already having another one of those out-of-body experiences and wanted clarification. His own face is so close, he can feel his warm breath. Behind the façade of Scott McCall, Lydia smirked. “What I mean, baby, is that you know how you make me.” And she’s pulling his hand over until he’s cupping the hardness tenting her jeans. 
> 
> Her brown eyes drifted shut. “Come on, baby. You know you want it; I’ll make you feel so good,” she practically moaned into his ear as he reflexively squeezed the familiar outline of Lydia’s erection.
> 
> Scott wet his lips and exhaled in a rush. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

 Friday night began with Lydia showing up at her own front door like a stranger. She held up Scott’s backpack and trilled, “I brought wine!”  Based on the devilish look in Lydia’s brown eyes, Scott was pretty sure she was up to something.

He had no idea how right he was.

Lydia had dressed his body in a pair of well-fitted jeans and she was wearing a white v-neck tee that he had to admit looked amazing against his skin. In the past week or so, she had been growing a neatly trimmed beard along his jaw line.

Their friends had finally picked up on the witch’s trail, and Derek had texted Scott last night to tell him that he was close to tracking her down. The best part was that Mr. Argent was now enthusiastically helping with the efforts to reverse the spell.  All a red-faced Allison could tell him was that Lydia had come to the penthouse to spend time with her best friend, and she had been her usual flirtatious self.

Scott could see how Chris Argent would be completely freaked out having the facsimile of his daughter’s werewolf ex-boyfriend purring at him and giving him the slow once-over.  Scott really wished he could have been there, too, just to have seen that.

But now it’s Friday night, and half the bottle of wine had been drunk between the two of them, although the alcohol would be metabolized without affecting Lydia much. Lydia was pressed up against Scott’s right side on her bed. She definitely had one thing on her mind.

Lydia placed her hand on his bare thigh.

“Would you like to know, Scott,” Her baritone voice rumbled, breath hot against the sensitive whorls of his ear. “What it’s like for a girl?” Lydia brushed her finger over his collarbone and swept his long, reddish curls away from his neck. He couldn’t help shivering with the sudden onslaught of desire.

“What do you mean?” Scott could guess what she meant, but he was already having another one of those out-of-body experiences and wanted clarification.  His own face was so close, he could feel his warm breath.

Behind the façade of Scott McCall, Lydia smirked. “What I mean,  _baby_ , is that you know how you make me.” And she’s pulling his hand over until he’s cupping the hardness tenting her jeans. 

This was so weird.  Hot, but _weird_.

Her brown eyes drifted shut. “Come on, sweetheart. You know you want it; I’ll make you feel so good,” she practically moaned into his ear as he reflexively squeezed the familiar outline of Lydia’s erection. 

He understood that he was touching his own body, and she was touching her own body, but this would be  _sex_.  Sex between the two of them.  He couldn’t lie, he’s really, really curious.  And the way Lydia talked, calling him 'baby' and saying things like 'you know you want it', Scott figured that Lydia was playing out her own fantasy here by seducing him in a stereotypically male way.  He wasn't ashamed to say how hot he found it. Here, he could explore some of his own fantasies.

Scott wet his lips and exhaled in a rush. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, yes.”  Lydia smiled at him and cupped his chin, bringing him in for a breathless kiss.

He made sure to close his eyes first, like she had, because watching his own face coming close was not helping matters any.

With his eyes closed, he can pretend he’s just being kissed by another man.  But at the same time, he’s very aware that the person capturing his upper lip in between hers is still Lydia Martin. He was clutching her biceps in one hand and skimming his fingers along the shortest hairs at the base of her head as he returned her kiss in equal measure.  This is all he had really wanted, to be closer to Lydia like this, and that she currently inhabits his body is just a tertiary occurrence.

At first, Lydia’s mouth was just a firm pressure against his, then she lifted her head away until their lips were barely brushing against one other- the tingle from the light caress sent a bolt of desire to his nipples and he could feel the warm unfurling of arousal between his thighs. His breath left his lungs in a short huff and then he was pressing himself closer to her. 

Lydia did him one better and before he knew it, he was being lifted by strong arms and being deposited in her lap. With a grunt, he braced himself with his smaller hands on her chest. They were kissing again, more open-mouthed and tinged with desperation.

The slow drag of her fingers through his long hair made him shudder and tilt his head back. Once the pale, smooth column of his neck was exposed, Lydia was there, all soft lips and abrasive jaw. Free of the ginger waves, her hand pressed against the space between Scott’s shoulder blades, forcing him to arch his back and jut his chest out closer to her muscled torso.  Lydia’s other hand swept over his clothed shoulder, fingers skittering onto the exposed flesh of his cleavage.  The smooth fingertips had barely dipped below the neckline of the dress Scott was wearing,  _and he really wanted to hump something_.

So he did, grinding the growing wetness of his panties against the hardness in Lydia’s jeans.

And then— and then she was cupping one of his breasts through the cloth. 

“ _Oh,_   _god_.”

Lydia had always been a dominant personality, especially considering the kinds of boys she typically dated. Scott mostly went with the flow—he was used to tempering Stiles’ impetuous traits and letting Allison dictate how far their makeout sessions would go. But this,  _this_  was something else entirely.

When Lydia used his werewolf strength to flip them around so that Scott was underneath her, the heavier weight of a masculine body against his now smaller one was peculiarly exciting.  It sent a frisson of lust rippling through his frame.

Scott was lifting his short legs and wrapping them around her waist as Lydia settled in between his thighs. The pressure against his… _against his pussy_ … was amazing.  He rolled his hips against Lydia’s erection… _against her cock_ …and was rewarded with a gasp and a low moan from her. When she kissed him again, it was heavy, and intense, and with teeth. She kissed him the way she had that day in their sophomore year, right before his first full moon. Like she wanted to devour him. Or have him devour her.

She hummed against his lips and then pulled back. “Keep your eyes closed, Scott,” she murmured.

Scott complied, and gave himself over to the sensation of Lydia pressing wet kisses along his neck, his chest, the edge of teeth over his dress as she nipped down his belly. He wanted something he did not have the understanding to have experienced. His legs parted anyways.

There was the whisper of rayon on his skin as Lydia slid his skirt upwards, her hands skimming over the flesh of his upper thighs and belly. Her mouth chased the material, closing over a tender piece of skin and scraping it with her teeth until Scott was jerking and spreading his legs wider. 

 _Was this what it meant to be wanton_ , he wondered. 

He could detect the warmth of her breath against his cunt. Lydia placed a simple kiss against Scott's panties, which were already slick with his arousal. It was a soft pressure that graduated into the harder press of lips closing over his clitoris.

"Fuck!" He breathed, abdominal muscles clenching inwards at the sharp pleasure. He’d used her vibrator several times, still too reluctant to try masturbating with his fingers on her vagina. This was different.

“Oh, sweetie, you haven’t seen nothing yet,” Lydia purred up at him from over his pelvis. 

And with that, his panties were being tugged down over his hips and off his ankles. And he was entirely exposed; even the air cooling against his wet flesh was erotic. 

Lydia used her superhuman strength to pin his legs wide apart, down on the mattress. The first touch of her tongue, warm and wriggling, against the folds of his labia was enough to make him squirm in her hold. Being overpowered like this...Scott was smart enough to understand that this wasn't something applicable to all women, this was something more specific to  _his_ desires.

He liked it all. The way she lightly teased his folds before pressing the muscle of her tongue into his vagina.  It's even better when she traced the tip of her tongue up over the hood of his clitoris, leaving  a trail of sensation.  And then she licked a heavy stripe upwards, from bottom to top, before closing her lips over his clitoris and  _sucking_. She placed her tongue against what feels like his entirely exposed clitoris and began to steadily, rhythmically lash it.  Sometimes Scott felt the rough stubble against his skin and that thrilled him exceedingly. He jerked in her hold.  

"Lydia! _Lydia, please_."

And that's when she slid a finger, then two, into his spasming cunt.

Her voice was rough as she directed him.  "Clench down on my fingers, especially when I swipe my thumb over your clitoris."  

Barely a second later her thumb was doing exactly as she had forewarned and the sharp pleasure of hard pressure over his clitoris made it easy to bear down harder on her fingers. Being penetrated was a strange sensation. He'd often wondered what it felt like, particularly when he was having sex with Allison. Being on the other end, however, wasn't anything like he had ever imagined. 

And when Lydia closed her mouth over his clit again, he was shoved unceremoniously over the edge. His nipples tightened, and they tingled perceptibly as he rolled his hips against her mouth, riding his orgasm all the way through until he's shaking and crying out.

Minutes later, he was panting softly as he looked down at Lydia with awe. There were no words when she moved to lay on her back on the bed, tugging off her shirt. The rasp of the zipper was harsh in the silence of the bedroom. Lydia had shown him what she liked.  He knew what he liked, and when Lydia's penis was exposed to the air, he did not hesitate to bend down and bathe it in his saliva, paying particular attention to the sensitive veins on the underside before he engulfed the head in his mouth.

Lydia was loud when she came, several minutes later.

* * *

 

It hurt a bit, though, when he sank down onto her cock, his back to her front. Scott understood now, that it wasn't exactly the penetration itself that was pleasurable. He vowed that from now on, when he's back in his own body, he will pay so much attention to everything but the vagina itself during sex.

"I was in this position for the best sex I had ever had," Lydia gasped as Scott ground his hips into hers.

Scott could see why- he arched his spine and raised his arms to comb his fingers through his long hair. Lydia reached around and cupped his breasts and the erotic sensation of his nipples nudging against her palms made him rotate his hips more desperately.

"Touch yourself," she ordered from behind him, sounding winded even though he was doing most of the work. "Reach down and touch yourself, Scott. Be a good girl and rub your clitoris."

Scott was not sure whether it was the sharp pleasure of touching his clit or Lydia speaking to him like that, but he did as she directed and nearly lost his mind at the feel of his cunt clamping down on her cock.  His orgasm, when it crested, felt like he was being consumed by heat and light and then darkness and the sweet agony oscillating, sending ripples throughout his entire body.

He was still rocking back and forth, shuddering, when Lydia shoved him forwards onto his hands and knees.  She grasped his hips in her hands and thrusted, hard, until she was moaning lowly with her own climax.  

It was hours later when he awoke to see both of them swaddled in Lydia's covers, her larger form curled up against his back. He felt so completely sated, but his mind was racing.

All those connections that had laid between them— the kiss before his first full moon, all those tiny interactions, hearing her scream, feeling the weight of her body on top of his and Stiles' beyond the heat of the fire that had nearly killed them all, and the warm soft weight of her hand in his even though she was absolutely terrified of what was happening to her but trusting that he would be there in time to do something—

All those connections had converged, sparking like a live wire, imbuing this moment with greater meaning.

Falling in love with Lydia Martin was different from falling in love with Allison Argent.

But somehow it felt like it happened just as fast. 

 

 

 

* * *

"We should do this again," Lydia casually informed him, rubbing her morning wood into his lower back. Her voice was rough from sleep.  "We should replicate our experiment with several variables to confirm our hypotheses. I, for one, want to test male werewolf stamina and refractory periods. And I’m curious whether a man who is relatively new to the experience of female orgasm can attain multiples."

"For science, then?" His voice did squeak a little, there.

"Yes."

"Okay."

 

* * *

 

 

Two nights later, Scott jack-knifed awake in the middle of the night. The red LED lights on his alarm clock told him it was after three in the morning.  He groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then ran his fingers through his hair. His short hair.

Staring blearily around the room, he confirmed that he was, in fact, back in his own body and sitting in his own bed. He was almost guilty at the sense of relief he felt, and, flicking on his bedside lamp, he reached for his phone and tapped on the keys until he was calling Lydia.

She picked up after eleven rings.  Scott waited her out.  Her voice was scratchy and subdued.

“I guess they finally found a way to fix us."

"Yeah," is all he can say in reply. What do you say to the girl whose body you were inhabiting for the better part of two weeks? 

"Oh, well," she trilled, and he could detect the false cheer in her voice. "It's really for the best. I think I spoiled your mother by having girl talk with her and cooking her amazing meals." Scott spent two weeks living in Lydia’s mother’s house. Mrs. Martin was rarely around and she wasn’t contacted by her father in the time he had inhabited her body.  She was used to being alone.

"Yeah, thanks for setting the bar high for me. You're probably going to have to come over for dinner from time to time, you know."

Her only response was a noncommital hum.  Let her do it of her own volition, and Scott knew she’d pretend she was sacrificing her precious time to help him out.

Then, "I better get to bed, I need all the beauty sleep I need before I go in to the salon for my usual waxing appointments."

He couldn't help grinning at that. “You're always beautiful.  Oh, and Lydia?”

"Yes?"

“I miss you already. Sleep tight.”

The other end of the line was silent for several long moments, and Scott worried he had overstepped his boundaries.  "Don't let the bedbugs bite," was said so quietly, he almost missed it before the 'end of call' beep sounded.  

Scott shot off a text to Derek and Stiles.   _Whatever you guys did, it worked. Back to normal. Lydia's okay, too._

And then he padded into his mother's bedroom and nudged her awake. All he had to do was say, "It's me, Mom," and she was tugging him into the bed next to her and wrapping her arms around him the way she had when he was young.

"I missed you, little man." She murmured before she went back to sleep. And with that, the tension from the past two weeks drained from his bones.

Scott spent the next few minutes before he drifted off to sleep thinking about him and Lydia. He was certain that she had feelings for him that went beyond the bonds of friendship and packmates, as much as she usually hid it behind uncaring and bravado. And he was very certain that he was falling in love with her.

The question was, what was he going to do about it?

 

* * *

The doorbell rang three nights later, and Scott opened his front door to see Lydia looking as put-together as she had always looked. It's a sight he had sorely missed- Lydia wearing her own face.

"Here." She pushed a plastic ware container into Scott's chest. "I made your mom some dinner so you could take it to her during her shift."

Scott thought quickly, taking the container from her. "Come with me when I drop this off, and then I can take you out to dinner. Unless you still think I'm too much of a loser."

What went unsaid is this:  _Unless you think I’m_ _too much of a loser for you to date_.

Lydia's heart was beating faster, but Scott didn't dare point that out. He just watched her furrow her forehead and purse her lips in contemplation.  Finally she stepped up closer until she had to tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. 

"Make it the sushi restaurant on Figueroa, and I think we can talk," she smirked, before swanning off his front porch towards her car.

If Scott can say one thing about what he had learned from spending two weeks as a woman it is this: he doesn't really know what women want, but he has a good idea what Lydia Martin wants.

And that's more than good enough for him.


End file.
